Before Your Hair Starts Falling Out, Surrender.

Ever had a full plate? I don't mean the awesome kind of, buffet line, stacked with all your favorite eats, kind of full plate. I'm talking about the life plate that you kept adding onto or others kept heaping more on or the world and it's brokenness just kept on stacking up your plate until catching your breath just seemed so hard to do. I'm in just such a place, a season of stacked, of wearing many hats and of holding it all in, keeping my chin up and my feelings tucked, in honor of doing a good job, in hopes of loving and serving well.

So when I looked in the mirror and saw more scalp, less hair, I physically took a step back. It was an obvious, "Hello, there. Remember me and my promise of an easy yoke and a light burden?" wake up call, straight from The One Who Sees Me. Honestly, He's my master, my guidance, my solace and my wisdom. He's my quiet in the morning, my comfort in the day and my last check in at night. I profess and believe He's my everything, but this exposed scalp, this shiny skin staring back at me where hair use to be... Was a true indicator that there was still so much I haven't surrendered, so much I'm hanging onto. I've scheduled and negotiated to make it all fit, to look like I have it all together and have literally been avoiding bringing it to Jesus' feet cause it has been so carefully stacked, teetering, that taking a piece off might end up like a game of Jenga. So much worry, responsibility, uncertainty that I just kept it carefully stacked. Not on purpose ya'll. I don't think it often happens on purpose. But on purpose or not, it's still stacked, still kept from Jesus' feet, still firmly in my own flimsy grasp.

I'm finding that this journey of being more like Jesus, of truly loving Him with everything I got, means trusting Him with everything I got. Particularly when my plate is full. Particularly when my heart is burdened and my knees are sore. I should have recognized my racing heart, my shortness of breath, my desperate need to be in control, but I didn't. So here I am, slowly surrendering each piece on that fragile plate over to the One Who Knows, The One Who Can Carry It, The One Who Promises Rest for My Soul. Praying the same for my fellow plate stackers, prayers for surrender, prayers for rest for your souls.

Come to me, all you who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you and learn from me, for I am gentle and humble in heart, and you will find rest for your souls. For my yoke is easy and my burden is light. Matthew 11:28-30